fandomtownies | Perkolator

Angela walks in and, very, very deliberately, walks over to Marty's table.

"Hi. Thanks for meeting me." It feels odd to be so formal with him. She gestures to the counter. "Do you want anything?"

Marty holds up his cup of coffee. "No thanks I'm good. I assume you wanted to talk to me about the note I left this morning?"

Angela gives him a sidelong smile. "Got it in one," she says. She fidgets, twisting a napkin. "Let me go get some coffee and then we'll ... talk."

Marty smiles. "Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere."

"For once," Angela says. She intends it as a joke, but it comes out harsher than she intended.

She returns with a coffee with plenty of sugar and a pair of almond biscotti.

"So ... um. Thank you. The note was sweet. And ... what have you been doing the last few days, anyhow?"

Marty winces a little at the "walking out" comment but doesn't say anything. He had it coming.

"I've been keeping pretty busy. Parents Weekend is coming up so I've been involved in getting the clubs together for a little open house Saturday afternoon. I've also been looking into that whole gas thing that happened at Spike's last week... but mostly I've been thinking. About Sunday night."

Marty sighs and looks down at his coffee.

"I'm glad you liked the note. I think I finally understand how screwed up I've made your life and I'm just trying to make things right."

"You're looking into the gas thing? I hope you're being careful," Angela says, a little absently.

She gathers her thoughts. "Marty ... what I came here to say was that I still have feelings for you, too. And I don't mean just in the, like, 'he's a great guy and we'll always be friends' way. I mean that whether you screw up my life or not -- and I'm pretty good at that myself -- I'm, um, having a harder time trying to convince myself we should stay broken up." She blushes. "Especially after what happened Sunday."

"But. It's still complicated."

Marty looks at Angela with surprise. "Angela... I really don't know what to say. You... you know how I feel about you. The part of me that wants to be with you right now is practially doing handsprings knowing that you feel the same way."

"But do you really think getting back together is going to make either of us happier? Or safer?"

Angela opens a packet of sugar, dumps it into the table, begins playing with the grains. It takes her a long time to speak again. "Happier? Yeah, I think so. Probably. At the zoo, even just as friends, it was ... fun. And not being with you kind of breaks me, you know?"

"Safer, though," she says, looking in his eyes, "that's ... this whole other topic."

Marty looks at her greenish-gray eyes and feels his resolve slip a little. He looks away.

"That really is the topic of the century, isn't it? And I don't know if it's one that we can really get around. All I've done is make your life more dangerous than it has to be."

"Which you don't have to do," Angela tells him, matching his gaze. "I mean, okay, be student security officer. But you don't need to go and get yourself beaten up, and I'm not sure how much I like you looking into the toxin. Whoever would do that is seriously messed up."

She looks at the table again. "Being brave is awesome. I love that you're brave. But ... do you know the difference between, like, being brave and trying to get yourself killed? Because according to Shane, all that stood between you and death last week was that Faith has *some* self-control."

Marty shakes his head. "You don't know what you're talking about Angela." he says gently.

"What happened between me and Faith was when... we broke up. I was looking for trouble and retrospectively a little punishment for what I did to you. If you don't think I've learned from that I've got three cracked ribs that will prove you wrong."

"As for this toxin? Do you really think I can turn a blind eye to it? I mean... I used to be one of those guys. Granted I did it for money, but these people? Who do it for kicks? Do you really think I can just stand by and let it happen?"

Angela grimaces. "Cracked ribs, and your face? Oh, god."

She draws in the sugar a little more.

"I'm not saying to turn a blind eye to it, seriously. I understand that you want redemption, and I love that. But it seems to me like your way of dealing with things ... you know the poor judgement thing didn't come out of nowhere. I can't be with someone who doesn't think before he goes and risks getting himself hurt, or, worse, getting me hurt. I can't spend all my time worrying about you, or taking care of you. And I know that's probably selfish of me. But it's where I am, and I figure I at least owe you honesty."

She looks up again. "It's weird. When you told me about what you used to do, I kind of put it in this little box, you know? Tried to solve it. But ... the things that made you do that are still a part of who you are, aren't they? And I need to figure out how to deal with that."

Marty sighs and not without a little frustration. "Angela... I care for you a lot, but I'm not exactly sure what you want from me. I know I've had poor judgement in the past, but I can't promise that even good judgement is even going to keep you safe."

"And the things that made me what I was? Yeah... I guess that'll be something I have to carry with me. Believe me when I say it's something I still haven't figured out a way to deal with as well."

Angela tears open the wrapper on one biscotti and sticks it into her coffee, somewhat viciously. She watches it soak up the coffee as she speaks.

"It's not just about me being safe, though. I can take care of myself, even if no one at this school believes that. It's about you being safe. I don't know how to say it so you'll understand that, or take me seriously."

She fiddles with the biscotti, picking it up and dunking it back in. "I don't even know how to start to help you deal."

She sighs. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I thought I had worked something out, but ... maybe I just haven't."

Marty gives Angela a slightly annoyed look.

"I just said what I did because I put your safety above my own. Is that so wrong? And exactly what did you think up that would erase my past, protect the both of us from psychos and allow us to be together? I'm trying to use better judgement Angela, but you've got to realize that some of these things are out of my control."

"Everything you do is in your control, Martin. There aren't robots in your head directing your every move," Angela says, exhausted. "It's like what Duce told me about Paige, only instead of your evil twin, it's your quest for redemption."

She picks up her bookbag, flings it over her shoulder, leaves the biscotti to melt. "I thought maybe we could talk this stuff out. I'm clearly an idiot. We can still be friends, sure, whatever, but as for the rest of it... just forget it."

She stands to go. "I guess it's my turn to do this, huh?," she calls, as she heads out the door.

"I guess so." Marty says softly as he watches her go.

Perkolator - Afternoon

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